Author's Notes: It's been a long time coming. I was trying to hold this out until after I was done with everything, but I know that when I'm in the mood to write and post, I have to get it done immediately, before the drive moves onto something else. To those who have been waiting, thank you so much. I know many of you will not be able to post anything for this chapter, seeing how I had an Author's Notes. If you can't review, message me and let me know what you think. The entire story is told from Jacob's perspective taking place after "The Fix-up". There will be a flashback to when he met Edward in a later chapter. I'm thinking this will be around 5-10 chapters, depending on the length of each chapter. So stay tuned.

Do Not Own Characters.

Prologue: Stick Shift

Jacob

I know it wasn't right to think of him first after waking up. Feeling the warmth on the other side of the bed, hearing the deep, slow breaths. To my surprise, I was fearful, maybe even a bit relieved. But in the end, I thought of him not hours after holding the cool body against mine. I was looking at Edward and yet he came to mind?

Quil always said Sam would drive me insane.

What I had done, I never done before. The question asked the night before wasn't answered correctly. Have I had one night stands? Yes. Have I been with men? Yes. But have I brought someone home with the intent of the best hospitality they could get? Never. I never felt so obligated to take care of someone in my entire life. A stranger of all people.

Maybe I was insane.

My body faced him. He was splayed out on his stomach, a hand comfortably tucked under his chin. His long lashes fanned out and curled, floating just above his cheekbones. I felt my body lean in towards him, momentarily pulled in like a magnet, until I realized what I was doing. Was I going to give him a good morning kiss? Would he want that? I pulled away, feeling a fire roar inside at the increasing space between us.

I really had no idea what was going on. I was questioning whether or not what I was feeling was an act of genuine affection or a consequence of sexual desperation. I was able to finally pull myself out of bed, yet my eyes couldn't leave his body until I was in the bathroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam originally showed me my love for "vehicle rehabilitation"; a phrase he used often to describe the ailing of motored machines. It was Sam that taught me to love a car like a friend and tend to it as a doctor would. At the age of 15, Sam became my mentor. On the small patch of land the Quileute tribe knew to be home, there weren't plenty of us "kids". Sam endured already what an adult would at his age, so over time, it was him that partially raised us when we were too stubborn to allow our parents to.

I wouldn't say Sam was a mechanic, but in my naive and young state, he appeared to know a lot although it was just common knowledge. He had an overwhelming stoic manner about him to the point where in my adolescent rage, it would only frustrate me more. Over time, I finally caved, asking him what it was that kept him so logical.

"Jake," He said in a calming voice, "Change is what creates conflict for us most of the time. When I'm upset, I think of something that is constantly stable in my life." When I asked him what it was, he just smiled and asked me, "What is yours?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I crossed the threshold of open, cold air, used to the way my body chilled at the rushing wind to open pores. Low temperatures barely ever bothered me. It was an immunity built in a lifetime. Tucking and folding the towel at my waistline, I glanced over at him, adoring the way his body now curled up, responding to the vacancy on the other half of the bed. Body temperature worked miracles. There was something child-like about him. He wasn't effeminate or weak and I knew he wasn't a virgin, but in some way more than physical he allowed me to dominate and guide him in mastery rather than strength.

My alarm went off, shrilling obnoxiously, disturbing the ambiance in the room. Edward stirred, stretching his body before sitting up. He looked confused and dizzy, staring at my nightstand in wonder. His bare chest was like a vivid reminder of what I had against me the night before. I had to contain a moan, seeing the fair flesh glitter and shine in the sun like a diamond. I couldn't decide what I loved most about him; the sleeping child or the conscious, unknowing seducer.

"You look beautiful when you sleep." I had to vocalize my admiration - well, half of it. His body jerked up, alert to see where the sound was coming from. He finally turned his head fully, seeing me for the first time since our unexpected night together. Even through his drowsy stare, I could see his eyes lower in lust to the exposing flesh above my towel. He looked to the time on the nightstand and his eyes nearly doubled in size. He began that cute stammering that I recalled had my hormones spiking the night before.

"I'm sorry if I'm in your way. I'll call a taxi and-" He nearly jumped out of my bed. I felt a weird compulsion to throw him back. I had to then ask myself, did I really want this to be a one-night stand? A very loud "No!" echoed in my mind. I didn't want him to go anywhere, as childish as that desire seemed.

It was his choice even if I wanted him with me, "Do you want to stay?" I watched as he worked over the words, his pink lips partings as if to say something, then shutting again. He stared down, eyes on nothing at all, yet too focused to be day dreaming. A part of me felt anxious. I didn't thing I was prepared to hear a response for him as much as I wanted to.

I could understand that I was crazy for getting attached so soon, but even crazy people had their limits.

"I don't know what you want." The phrase took me by surprise. Here I was so intent on figuring out what he desired, yet he was there thinking the same, "I quit today. I can't work anymore. Last night was just-" I could see him bite his ruby lips as if stopping himself from saying too much. Any weight on my shoulders was now gone.

I felt the relief whoosh out of me. It was saying something when the feelings were mutual. I didn't expect it from someone so different from me, "And yet you still amaze me." He stared back at me, a knowing look in his eyes. I felt compelled to disregard all pretenses. So I did, "What are your plans then?"

And it was as if he knew to do the same, "I have none." It wasn't as simple as that. Just yesterday he was a business man and now he claimed himself unemployed. He no longer felt it necessary to abide by his life schedule, yet I had the impression that his plans were now my plans.

"Mmm," I said in understanding. He blushed, watching my thumb hook into my towel, causing it to drop like a dead weight to the floor, "That's what I like to hear."

His bare chest rose and fell noticeably, "It's no problem?"

My bare feet padded along the cold, wooden floor of my bedroom as I stride in his direction in the nude. His reddish hair stuck in every way possible, attracting my attention. I briefly wondered what his hair felt like. I didn't think I enjoyed it enough the night before. My knees landed on the softness of my mattress, my hands next. I crawled over him, straddling his thighs, my lips inches away from his forehead.

"It's a pleasure, Edward." I couldn't compress my next desire to smell his locks.

His hand came up, stroking my throat, "Are you inspecting me?" He asked curiously, surprisingly not put off by my random action.

"Just a check-up, sweetie," I answered, enjoying his vehicle lingo, "Making sure everything is ope ratable."

I felt the warmth of his breath on bare chest, "Like what?" I pulled away to get a glance at him. His hands moved down my chest, resting on my abdomen. Green eyes, blanketed by eyelashes, angled up towards me, "Tell me. Please."

*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day I moved into Sam's small house, I was sure there was more he wanted me there for. A maid, a yard keeper, maybe even a full-time mechanic. It was impossible to believe he wanted me safe - no strings attached. 16 was such a young age to leave home. Dad was sick of the dreary weather of Washington and the reminder of our family loss, my sisters were already off and ready for college and I was just a bit too attached to this small town. This was where mom was happy. I wasn't ready to leave yet.

After a few weeks of working in the only mechanic shop in the town, I felt almost secure that I was capable of living on my own. I was old enough to drop out of school and the idea was rather inviting than putting up with the student lifestye that I wasn't comfortable with in the first place.

The month before dad's scheduled departure, Sam showed up on my doorstep. In the same tone he used to keep many adolescents from ditching class, he told me he wouldn't allow me to ruin my life just to stay where I was the happiest.

"I don't want to rob you of that security blanket, Jacob, " He said to me that cloudy morning, "I know it is hard starting over, but I'm not going to watch you give up a chance of a future-"

"What future?"
With a coolness that could only be matched with a zen monk, he continued, "I talked to your father, Jacob. It hurts him to pull you from home, but it kills him to leave you here. I'm offering my home to you."

"I'm not taking the offer." And before I could close the door in his face, his palm flattened against the wooden barrier between us.

"Do it for your father, Jacob." I couldn't walk away from that.

*~*~*~*~*

"Sure, Sure," I spoke into the vintage phone, leaning against the cluttered kitchen counter. I hadn't cleaned anything in days. Edward had been gone for the entire weekend and it was hard functioning without him. My hair was disheveled, the dishes were piled in my sink and I even had gone the lengths to call my father enough to annoy the hell out of him.

"I'm telling you, son. Maybe you should just pack up and leave Forks," He tried again, "You and your uh - friend can find a nice spot in northern California. You'll be closer to me and maybe you could accompany your old man to some fishing."

"I don't mind fishing with you, dad. I'll do it the next time I come down."

"You don't plan on leaving, do you?" He sighed on the other line.

"No," I admitted, playing with a strand of my growing hair, "I guess I'll just have to suffer the next few weekends without him." The line was silent. I knew I went too far. My dad didn't handle Edward as anything more than a close companion.

Through the hammering of rain, I could hear a distant car horn. I stood at full height, not sure I was imagining things. It was too soon. He couldn't be home already. I ended the conversation with my dad. He was more than happy to have an excuse to hang-up. The topic of Edward was still sore for him. It was to be expected. I had only known Edward for a month so far.

The phone was placed into the receiver with a muffled ring. I walked towards the front window of my house, looking out to the wide drive-way. I could make out headlights. He was out there in the rain, probably unable to bring some of his belongings in.

I rushed outside, not minding that I was only in my pajama bottoms and no shoes. He waited inside the rented car, driver door open.

"Jake!" He called out, finally catching sight of me through the rain haze, "You're going to catch a cold." He nearly tumbled out of the car, jerking his arm out of his pea-coat. I held up a hand, shaking my head.

"I'll be fine." I tried to convince him, "You need to go inside though, baby." I could see his eyebrows furrow even under the heavy, bronze strands stuck against his forehead. I felt my lips curl on their own accord. I lifted a hand, wrapping around the wet strands of his hair before roughly pulling him into a wet, rain soaked kiss.

"Why are you back so soon?" I asked, "Not that I mind. I thought I was going to go insane."

He surprised me with a cute pout, "It was kind of hard sleeping in that bed alone." He shook his head, causing his own rain of droplets from his locks to fall on me, "I don't know how I'm going to be able to do this for the next month."

I ballooned my chest ready to offer my assistance again, but he held up his hand and shook his head as if I was offering my life. Not a word had even left my lips, "You'll tire yourself out. You're already working 6 days a week and I can't imagine Quil working alone." He bit his lip as if it was more of an inconvenience for him rather than me.

I didn't like the idea of him spending Sundays in as he packed feverishly two states away, alone at night in that empty, sterile apartment.

"But you said you don't like me working alot, remember?" I said, poking a finger at his wet coat.

"Yes, but I want you at home, not packing for 12 hours." He said, pursing those lips. He was doing a lot of lip work tonight, "I am the one unemployed, remember?"

I chuckled, "Yeah, but you were the one offering to pay for my days off not even 2 weeks ago."

The rain pattered around us, momentarily bringing me back my senses. I got so wound up in him sometimes, it was hard to recall where I was.

"Go in," I motioned towards the warm comforts of what he liked to call my "cottage", "I'll get your stuff."

His lips pulled down, "Take my coat first." I smiled, enjoying the pattern of our banter; who can be a better gentleman. It wasn't a contest, but merely a matter of making sure the other was at a better comfort. I wanted him warm and he wanted me not lifting heavy objects. It was very much like the first night I had him, both of us so concerned as to where the other slept. It was so simple when we gave up and shared the damn bed. And look where that got us.

"Okay," I started, coming to a compromise, "Let's both do this tomorrow when the weather dies down, alright?"

He kinked an eyebrow, "No funny business?" He asked, not trusting me. We could be ruthless in our attempts to keep each other as happy as possible. It was a bit of an oxymoron of a situation.

"I haven't seen you in two days. Do you really think I want to leave your side tonight?"

He shut the car door, locking by pressing an unseen button on his key chain before stuffing the keys hurriedly in his coat pocket. His brows were still furrowed as if he still didn't believe me.

"Answer my question, Jacob." He said softly. I sighed, completely content. To most other couples, "funny business" may have been unmonitored drinking, cheating or even leaving the toilet seat up. With that same look he gave me when I came home an hour late from work, he made me promise I wouldn't go out to the car again.

I raised a hand to my chest, "I, Jacob Black, solemnly swear to not take anything out of your rented Corolla until the weather dies down tomorrow." His frown remained, but I could see his lips curling despite himself, "Come on, let's have dinner."

I could see Edward's face contort into confusion to disapproval, then finally concern. We had just stepped inside, greeted by warm air and the smell of incense, "Baby," Hearing the word roll off his tongue was so natural. He rarely ever called me affectionate names - he left that to me. And considering the one month we had together, he really didn't have the time to exercise such a habit, yet it seemed like he had been saying it for years and to me only.

"Are you undergoing Spring cleaning?" I knew he didn't mean it as a joke or insult, but I cracked a grin nonetheless. I usually kept the house tidy and by tidy I only mean that the dishes were usually washed and my dirty clothes were always in the laundry. I wasn't the spic-and-span type, but I guess there was authenticity to my interior design. It was one of the things Edward admitted to liking about me. He described it perfectly; homey and safe.

He waited patiently for my answer. I knew he read deeper into this than me just being messy. I was almost certain he believed the home economic proverb that "A messy space reflects a messy mind." I couldn't lie, I was indeed a mess the last two weekends. The first weekend was a blister - that nuisance that kept you from putting weight on your foot and usually resulted in you promising never to continue anything that would result in the same outcome in the same place again. It was torture, but I was willing to endure it once.

It was the second weekend that bothered me. Very much like running on the same foot you damaged with the little air bubbles. It was another ball-field of pain and discomfort, so hard to not think about. All I wanted was for that moment to be over. It resulted in my drinking and eating quite a lot to occupy me, leaving dishes around the house. I tried going through my Comic library, only to leave a pile scattered on my couch. I became agitated with clothes, constantly tossing a shirt off only to go back in my closet to get another. the idea of grabbing one of Edward's shirts to keep by me only made me more conscious of the blister of pain and on top of that, might have made me a bit creepy. I doubted he would have mind.

I felt his cool fingers on my forearm, "Babe," He said softly, "You alright?"

"I got restless," I shrugged, "You have no idea how uncomfortable I am in this house without you."

He cocked his head cutely, "I know," His long lashes touched the mound of flesh on his cheek and he bit his lip, "I- I feel so weird in that apartment. It feels like I was zapped to life and now I'm visiting the grave from which I crawled out of."

I took his hand in mine, "Poetic," I tried to joke, but he already struck a sensitive chord with me that there was no lightness to attain, so I gave up, "I was so comfortable here. For awhile, I actually preferred being alone. It was like a life routine that I was so secure in keeping as it was." I turned his hand over in mine, examining the fair flesh that contrasted so nicely from my own, "I'd play a little Poison, make myself steak and corn and watch a Clint Eastwood flick and call it a night. I believed I was happy." I shrugged, trying to downplay it. I didn't want him to see past the words, although it was useless. We worked harmoniously together that it was as dependable as gravity itself for him to catch how sad the thought made me.

I felt his free hand rake through the end of my hair which now hung limply down my back, stuck in clumps from large rain pellets. I hadn't told him enough about my past. I knew it would catch up with me sooner or later and I'd have to tell him, but I was hoping he could wait a little longer. The only time we made mention of anything of my love life was the first night he was over, the night I figured he would leave, still a stranger.

Edward wasn't stupid. He knew I built up my walls in my cottage in Forks with no one but Quil and my mechanic shop. Although my world and walls came crashing down the night I held his body against my own, I couldn't relive anything before him. Not now at least.

He lifted my hand that held his, kissing my skin, right where a vein pulsed. That was sign enough to let me know he was aware of my discomfort and wouldn't push, "What do you want for dinner?" He asked coolly.

I shook my head, smirking, "What I want for dinner is-" I bit my lip, hoping he would get the picture, "but I'd love to cook you up something. How about tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich?"

"Soup," He nodded, "It seems that whenever it rains, you make soup."

"It seems that whenever it rains, you go on dangerous road-trips." I retorted lightly, walking towards the cluttered kitchen.

I could feel him roll his eyes behind me as he spoke, "I can't help it if it rains every-time I decide to get in a car, Jake."

"I know, Sexy." I bent over, pulling out the compartment under the stove where I kept my small pots and pans, "Ever think about that being a sign?"

"For me never to leave the house?"

"Mmm hmm." I nodded.

He giggled cutely, "Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind."

*~*~*~*

He didn't like it when I watched him eat. It made him feel self conscious as if he was going to spit his food out while talking. I promised not to stare much and instead finished where he left off in tidying the neighboring area of the living room. We spoke jovially about where we were to place some of his belongings. I had a rather roomy closet I used for coats only. I offered the space for anything he wanted to set up. I thought of maybe making that a small office for him, since he still wanted to work or maybe a library for his books.

"I never had a library," I could see him dipping the corner of the half of the sandwich into the petite bowl of tomato soup, "Just an assortment of How-to books." He sounded irritated and a bit embarrassed, "I gave most of them away to Good Will." I finished organizing the pile of comics that I had recently abandoned, sliding them into their positions on my own bookshelf. I couldn't say I had a legit library, but it wasn't something I felt guilt of admitting to. It kept me grounded.

"Maybe we should drive down to Port Angeles tomorrow and check out some of the local bookstores." I offered, "Then we can go to some cafe, drink hot cocoa and read through them. It'll be obnoxious fun." I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, lowering my frame as I did. I kissed his cheek with a cartoonish smack getting a pleasant giggle in response, "Maybe after that, I can read you a bedtime story." He cooed at the suggestion, tilting his head my way. I felt the smooth texture of his flesh against my own lips.

"I know it makes me boring when I say this," He smoke lowly, shyly avoiding eye contact, "But that sounds like a perfect day."

I got joy out of the idea that such a relaxed day was something he preferred compared to the fast paced lifestyle he had recently, "It's not boring at all," I assured him, "You know how many books we might come across? That's a lot of journeys, characters, stories..." I went on, noticing how his cheeks pulled up more at each word I uttered.

Edward placed the remains of his sandwich down. His bowl was nearly empty now. "You should have been a chef." He smacked his lips cutely.

"Don't think I could," I replied, after a second of thinking, "Cooks have long days, often missing breakfast and dinner at home. I don't think I'd be able to stomach cooking for a stranger and not for you."

He titled his head again, looking at me. I felt my arms secure around his frame instinctively, "I don't think I'd ever understand why you make me feel like the most important person on this earth."

I pressed my lips against his jaw, mouthing the next words against the curve of his chin, "Very simple," I felt him shudder under me, "You are."

His breath came out in pants, "Don't say that. I barely met you Jacob and it's insane that I even quit this job and moved in. How can we be so sure how we feel-" I didn't let him finish. I kissed him, parting his lips with my tongue, getting the exact response I needed; a moan.

Everynight when he was home, we did this - this formula of dinner, comforting conversation and sex. Twenty minutes after being graced with his presence, I had him under me, his chest pressed against mine, shuddering when the slick, wetness of our bodies collided.

"Jake!' He cradled my head, whimpering against my lips. He raised his hips a bit, meeting mines mid-way, before crying out louder than he had all night.

"Deeper!" I loved it when he got vocal and demanding, "I'm c-co-!" His green eyes were masked with ivory skin and feather lashes before I felt him lock under me.

"Come for me, baby." I nipped at his cool flesh, kissing the curve of his neck wetly, getting a gurgle of a reply. I was pulled into him deeper, the convulsion of his muscles taking me into my high. Everynight, it was this feeling - that warmth trickling and drenching my body until I couldn't picture myself in this dreary weather and cold wetness. I forgot who I was, where I've been and why I was ever scared of this. I needed him with me, I needed to be in him, I needed to feel this everday in everyway. He was my heaven.

"Jacob, I don't think I've ever come that hard before," His voice was weak and hoarse from all the screaming, "Maybe I should go out of town more often."

"Don't you dare." I held him to me, loving the way our skin stuck together, "I need you with me."

He was silent under me, stroking my hair, sighing contently, "I don't understand why I feel this way. I need you too. So much."

I leaned back, cupping his cheeks. His eyes almost glowed jade in the dark as he stared back at me with a fiery look, "I lo-" There was a resounding ring from down the hall, cutting me off. He caressed my back, urging me to go on.

"I-" I wanted to repeat it, but the moment was ruined. I needed to tell him this at the right time. I made the plan that it would be perfect after our long, restful day together, "It could be something important." I pulled away, but he whined.

"Stay in me." It was a soft whisper, yet I could feel the urgency.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby." I found comfort on his chest, still coming back to my sense after the intense emotional and physical work-out. The phone went on, but I was lost in him, in his soothing breaths and sighs as we drifted off together.

The beep.

And I heard Quil's voice faintly on the loud answering machine. Edward's chest rose under me in deep breaths, letting me know he wasn't awake, lulling me into my own dreams like a lullaby. Quil kept it up, talking, but I could barely make it out.

"Warning...Sam...house." I was dreaming. I knew I was. It had been a year since Quil had even said that name.

AN: Can't be an entertaining story without some conflict, right? Let me know how you feel so far!